Discord's Chaos
by ArceusGPG
Summary: Today we will take a visit into the house and mind of Discord. I'm sure he's got something bottled up that he wishes to share with us, so try and be respectful.


This episode of Discord's Chaotic House has been brought to you by the number 3,201,948 and the letter Q.

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Oh, don't mind the mess, little ponies. I'm just smashing some things against the ceiling because, you know, I'm chaotic. That's what people like me do, right?

Ahem...so... welcome to my home; I hope you enjoy your stay here. Well, actually I hope you suffer... no more, because I hate to see ponies in pain... -less situations. Actually, strike that, reverse it, and then stomp out the fire because I'm not interested in any pancakes.

Would I like waffles instead? No, of course I wouldn't; they just imprison butter without due process, and that process is entropy.

Speaking of trees, I think it's time we all learn a valuable lesson about giving. Sharing is caring and killing is thrilling, so it should follow that rhyming creates association. If you can't follow then you lose Simon Says, which also means that you have very poor memory. You should purchase farm animals like ram and start harvesting your crops or you'll start to lose coins. You can purchase bits and bobs with coins, but be careful or your little children will spend too much on buying them with your hard-earned bits.

Yes, you can hard-earn something, as well as soft-earn. But now that we're (I'm) on the topic of death, I better take this opportunity to thank all the little people for their minimal contributions to make me the_ chaotic_ person that I am.

Who am I?

That's a personal question, really, and I think I don't like people getting up in my grillz, y'know? Oh, and Miss Shush sends here greetings, but the moon doesn't because the moon is a jerk. Stupid thing keeps falling every couple of days or bargaining for fillies.

Well, now that you've gotten me thinking about soft pretzels, my mind has wondered to the thought of salt's application. Now, let's think about the logic for a minute. If salt was up there, would I be down here looking for it? Nope, see, you can take the salt out of the mine, but you can't take the mine out of the salt. That's why it's all mine.

That's actually my craft- taking what's mine. What's more... is less... more or less, 'less the lesser lesions lessen the less... then it's the least of my worries. But which of them is the greatest (you may ask)? Well, I'll tell you (I may tell).

First, you have to understand that there are three types of ponies in the world: those that can count, those that can't, and those that don't need to. I would put myself in the latter two categories if I didn't have the ability to fly. Since I can fly, I don't need a ladder, unless I'm in a tournament which is the only time ments have ever turned, to my knowledge.

Now see here. Now see / hear. A sight to behold beholds no sight, but a thought beheld in the mind is minded, beheld in thought. I sought a sight to behold, minding thoughts of beholding such a sight in my mind, yet without sight, I beheld no sight in mind or thought. Mind you, on-site sights cite mind's thoughts beheld to be insightful, inciting mindless thoughts of such beheld sights.

Well now that we've agreed that words have no substance, would you care for a substantial amount of words? Of course you would because wood is coarse.

You know, life is like a game of tennis. There are rules, boundaries, and nets that never seem to catch you. Every time you feel accomplished... every time you feel you've succeeded, you find that it's at the expense of another.

And nothing is more expensive than life, right? I mean, you can create it, you can destroy it, you can mold it any way you want it to. So what's so special about it? It's just another toy to play with, get tired of, and abandon.

Hey speaking of abandonment, you want to see some of my baby photos? Oh, it's no trouble. See look?

Yeah,the whole book is empty. _That's chaotic, isn't it_? No one would ever want to take a picture of someone like me... because- because- I'm... _chaotic_ right?

Right from left. See, there's no difference at all. It's all a matter of perspective. Your right is different from my right. It can't be used as a point of reference. Essentially, we have no rights, and what's "right" is more than just subjective- it doesn't exist.

Existence- heh, that's another joke. It doesn't really exist either. If it can be taken away at a moment's notice, then it doesn't exist. Existence doesn't exist. So what does that mean? What does "mean" mean? I mean, meaning means meanies mean something.

Something... something... dark side... something... something... complete. Something complete? That's me! I'm complete because completion is relative.

Oh, forgive my chaotic thinking. You know how _chaotic_ I am. Sometimes I can't help but speak _chaotically_ from time to time. See, that's a bridge in reality- from time to time. What is in-between time and time? Can there be anything between the fabric of reality and the same fabric of reality? So who's wearing that fabric anyway? Me.

Now, let's get down to business. If business is down then pleasure is up. What's up? Now it's the same situation as right and left. Direction is a matter of perspective, which is the same as prospective thoughts or retrospection. They're all directions, really, one-directional concepts.

Since we're on the topic of overrated singers, would you like to hear me sing? I'm sure you would; everyone loves to hear a song about something they care about. Too bad for you though, because no one would like to hear this song. It's about myself, after all.

_Beneath cold stares and stairs the ugly freak lies_

_To himself, by himself, rubbing tired I's_

_I sore like the burdens on these gentle weens_

_Cloud reality and heaven in my means_

What's the matter? Is this too real for you? Or is it not real enough for it to believable? Am I being _chaotic_, huh? Is random funny? Am I here to entertain you?

It appears that questions make you question your reality... or does reality question your questions? If they're never answered then they're never real. Something left unfulfilled is no longer something.

An idea... what if that's the way we are too? Doesn't that sound _chaotic_?

That which is incomplete has limitless potential- it is a state of perfection. In that way, imperfection is perfect, but only to those that can realize this truth.

It's such a pity ponies cannot see this. It's a pity they cannot take pity on the pitiful.

So here I am, sitting here with an empty photo album, playing word games to amuse myself. There's nothing chaotic about that, but I know I'm incomplete.

Maybe... maybe I just need some clarity in my life. Maybe I could use a little order.

… maybe...

**Author's Note: Perhaps Discord's feelings toward chaos are manifestations of reaction formation? Perhaps... **


End file.
